


Heart and Shoulder

by hazyjayne



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-06
Updated: 2010-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-13 13:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazyjayne/pseuds/hazyjayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt/Blaine pre-established.  Kurt never does anything by halves, including revision.  Blaine comes and rescues him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart and Shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> So I have been hanging out in fandom for nearly fifteen years now, but this is my first fan-fic. I was meant to be writing something else (which I still am) but this came to me the other day and wouldn’t leave me alone. Con crit appreciated. Apparently fan-fic is excellent if you need to procrastinate about tidying you study after exams…
> 
> Title is from the very excellent track “Heart and Shoulder” from Heather Nova’s album “Siren”.

Blaine knocked softly at Kurt's door. Midterms started next week and Kurt seemed to be working twice as hard as anyone else. Blaine had hardly seen his boyfriend the past three days, and when he did he seemed to be rushing from one place to the next, usually from the dining hall to the library. Maybe Kurt felt he had something to prove, maybe he wanted to show Burt and Carole their money was not being wasted, or maybe it was a way to distract himself from the trauma of the past few months. Kurt seemed to be getting on better than he had that first week when he had strode into the Warbler’s council meeting and declared they should perform Duran Duran to the point where he had taken Blaine’s advice that he was “trying to hard a little too hard” to heart. He was keeping his head down, trying not to stand out and seemed to be putting a lot of energy into his studies, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Blaine suspected that Dalton was a little more… academically rigorous than what Kurt had been used to at William McKinley High, and Kurt was having to learn Latin and Greek from scratch when all of the boys in his class had at least a year’s worth of lessons. “There’s one thing you can say about Kurt Hummel,” Blaine mused. “He does not do anything by halves.”

He knocked again and heard a muffled voice say, “Go away!” and took it as an invitation to enter. He popped his head around the door.

“What did I say?” Kurt snapped, attempting to give his best bitch face. “Oh, it’s you.”

Blaine looked down at the younger boy sitting on a hard-backed chair at his desk; dark circles ran under his eyes, and he was looking as Blaine had suspected – positively exhausted. He took in the surroundings of the room: papers were tacked all over the walls including a study schedule in various luminous colors and text books were pilled high on the desk together with empty coffee mugs and energy drinks cans. There were library books piled on the floor, his bed looked like it had not been made in days and clothes had been left on the floor instead of in the laundry basket. Only his desk lamp was on so the room was bathed in darkness. This was a far cry from Kurt’s normal tidy room containing minimal decoration, a clear floor and a neatly made bed.

Blaine smiled gently. “Well, that’s a nice way to greet a boyfriend who has come to rescue you from the trials of revision!” He set down the bag he had been carrying on his shoulder down on the floor. He saw that Kurt had an open Chemistry textbook and was answering practice questions on stoichiometry.

Kurt protested. “Blaine, I have to finish off these questions and then I have French vocabulary before I can go to bed tonight, and then I need to be up at 7am tomorrow to carry on with English Lit.” He sighed deeply, setting his pencil down.

“Kurt, it’s 9pm on a Friday evening. Most of the guys are down in the common room having a Halo tournament. How much work do you think you are honestly going to get done in this state? You’re always looking after other people, let me look after you for a change,” Blaine retorted gently, bending his knees and putting his hands on Kurt’s tense shoulders.

It seemed like that was all the permission Kurt needed to stop for the evening. His body suddenly slumped and before Blaine knew it he was flat on his back with a soft “Ooaf” and Kurt cuddling him. Blaine lay there for a moment wishing they could just spend the rest of the evening like this, but shifted anyway and moved Kurt’s body so they were both sitting up.

“Right,” Blaine stood and located Kurt’s pajamas, towel and toiletries bag, “go and take these and have a shower.” Kurt gave him an offended look. “You’ll feel much better once you have one. Go. Now.”

Kurt seemed to have decided it was useless arguing with a determined Blaine, so he put on some slippers and padded off to the bathroom. Blaine then started to put his plan into action.

Somehow tidying Kurt’s room seemed to be a lot easier than tidying his own. He suspected once Kurt was feeling a little better there would be very vocal complaints about the week old pile of laundry at the end of Blaine’s bed. However, by the time Kurt got back 20 minutes later, the bed was made, worn clothes had been piled into the basket and the text books had been slightly more neatly piled on the desk. In addition, three scented candles had been lit and were placed on the windowsill and Blaine had brought out his laptop and was setting up a DVD of “The Princess Bride.” Plastic spoons and slightly-melted tubs of frozen yogurt sat on the bedside table.

Blaine turned and took in his boyfriend: his hair and skin were still damp from the shower and his light blue cotton pajamas clung to him.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Kurt said, a tremor in his voice.

“No, I didn’t have to,” replied Blaine, “but I wanted to. You have been working so hard recently that I wanted to make your life better and show you what a totally awesome boyfriend you are.”

“I don’t feel like a totally awesome boyfriend. I mostly feel like a very neglectful boyfriend who doesn’t deserve this attention.”

“Now stop that. You need to give yourself a break. You just need to step back, relax and stop taking the weight of the world on your shoulders for an evening.”

Blaine turned around, picked up one of the opened tubs of frozen yogurt and a spoon, dug the spoon into the and held the spoon in front of Kurt’s mouth. “Eat.” Kurt look undecided for a moment and then decided for the second time this evening not to argue, eating the yogurt and smiling.

As it turned out Blaine’s choice of movie was a good one; Kurt had not seen it before so he had to actually concentrate on the movie, but it was suitably silly and light hearted that it was a distraction. Together they booed as Count Rugen kidnapped Buttercup and Westley, cheered when Westley was declared not dead by Miracle Max and went “Awwwww” when Westley, Buttercup, Inigo and Fezzik rode away. By the end of the movie Kurt was looking much more like his usual self; still tired, but a lot happier. He leaned into Blaine, who had his arm around his shoulders during the movie, and Blaine kissed him on the forehead. The empty frozen yogurt cartons were on the nightstand.

Kurt yawned and wriggled against Blaine, “I should probably go to bed.”

“There is one more thing I had planned,” Blaine said, slightly nervous. He leaned down and plucked a small silver oval tin from his bag, and handed it to Kurt. Inside there was an almond-colored bar with a flower motif on top, smelling like a mixture of citrus and saffron. “The sales assistant said it is meant to ‘perk up your spirits’, and I figured you could use a little of that.”

“You want to give me a massage? Blaine, have you ever done one before?” Kurt seemed more than slightly concerned.

“I haven’t, but it can’t be that hard, can it? I did some research on-line first.”

Kurt raised a well-practiced eyebrow. He must be feeling better, Blaine thought.

“If you mess up my back, Blaine, you are paying for the chiropractor bills.”

“So that’s a yes?”

Even though they had seen each other shirtless before, Blaine noticed that Kurt was still nervous undoing the buttons of his pajama shirt. He carefully undid each button, then took the shirt off and laid it at the end of the bed. Blaine was kneeling on the bed; he’d taken off his blazer hours ago but was now without his shoes, socks and tie. Kurt turned to him.

“So, how do you want me?” Kurt asked.

Blaine tried to hold back a giggle and failed. Blaine moved to the edge of the bed and pulled Kurt to him with his arms around his waist, leaning up and kissing him. It was a soft and slow kiss full of gentleness, starting off as a series of pecks before deepening it. Blaine moved his hands up to Kurt’s ribcage, feeling it rise and fall with increased frequency. He moved his lips down to Kurt’s chest and stomach, where he planted kisses in a straight line down from his breastbone to his belly button. Suddenly, Blaine caught himself and pulled away, breathing as deeply as Kurt.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me there,” he said apologetically.

“Don’t apologize, Blaine. If I felt uncomfortable with you doing anything, I would say so. Since I’m not saying that, can we assume that I thought that was incredibly hot? Now, how do you want me?” Kurt looked fierce, his eyes filled with want.

Blaine licked his lips. As tempting as it would be to take things further with Kurt, tonight was not the night. It was late and Kurt was tired and emotionally drained. Coupled with the fact that the walls in the dorm rooms at Dalton are notoriously thin, Blaine did not feel the night was conducive to getting to second base. He sighed and leaned back on the bed.

“On your front, so your arms are comfortable and your shoulders are relaxed.”

Kurt clambered onto the bed, lying down on his front and resting his head on his forearms in the middle of the bed. Blaine moved back, picking up the silver tin. He gently warmed the massage bar in his hands, letting his palms and fingers become coated with the scented butter. Blaine then positioned himself straddling over Kurt’s backside. He took a moment to admire Kurt’s back; the hours Kurt put into the dance studio and at Cheerio practice paid off. He isn’t pure muscle like some of the players on the lacrosse team, but his lean back had a definition which added to Kurt’s masculinity. Blaine bent down and placed a kiss on Kurt’s shoulder before whispering in his ear “You’re beautiful, you know that, right?”

Kurt smiled and hummed before settling down again.

Blaine started at his shoulders, then worked his way down, making small circles with his thumbs, then kneading Kurt’s shoulders gently. The cocoa butter gave off a scent of lime and oranges, and gave Kurt’s skin a shiny sheen. Blaine went back to making small circles, past Kurt’s shoulder blades and down to the middle of his back, then further to the small of his back. Blaine was careful, keeping the pressure light. The scent filled the room and Blaine started to feel heady, trying to concentrate. Kurt’s skin was so soft and supple under his touch.

Hearing something, Blaine leaned closer. Apparently Kurt was tired; he was gently snoring on his arms. Blaine sighs. He knew this was likely to happen, but was glad that Kurt finally seemed to be relaxed. He looked at his watch and realized with slight horror that curfew was in five minutes. He collected his things, putting the empty frozen yogurt cartons in the trash and pulling a comforter over Kurt to stop him from getting cold. He went to pick up his bags and make a run for it when he changed his mind, walking back to the bed and kissing Kurt’s cheek softly.

“Love you, Kurt,” he whispered.

Kurt turned over and mumbled “Love you too,” then went back to his gentle snoring.

Quietly Blaine picked up his bags, switched off the light, and closed the door.


End file.
